


The Perils Of A Fearsome Reputation

by shewhoguards



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Humour, Other, Pre-Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 11:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5454341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewhoguards/pseuds/shewhoguards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which flirting is hard, and even Attolia and Attolis can't always have what they want at the first attempt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perils Of A Fearsome Reputation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [civilsmile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/civilsmile/gifts).



Nobody who was wise wanted to be summoned by the Queen of Attolia. Particularly not for a private audience. Heiro stood very still as the Queen looked her up and down, and tried not to breathe wrong.

“You danced with my husband last night,” the Queen said. The question came suddenly, just when enough time had passed that Heiro was wondering if she might be examined in silence forever.

“Your Majesty?” It came out as a squeak, as Heiro’s heart beat faster. Perhaps this was only a simple case of jealousy; even a queen could be jealous, even when it came to a husband who – so rumours said – she did not particularly like. Not so simple, though: upset another lady who thought you might have designs on your husband and the worst consequence might be a slapped face, or a glass of wine over your favourite dress. Upset the Queen and—Heiro swallowed hard and tried not to think of the stories of the dungeons.

“What did the two of you find to talk about?” Attolia was watching her closely, she could feel it. Fleetingly, Heiro wondered if a terrified expression would be taken as a sign of guilt, but surely the Queen must be used to people looking terrified of her by now.

“He liked my earrings, Your Majesty,” she blurted, grateful for that excuse at least. It seemed harmless enough.

She did not expect the Queen to laugh; indeed, she had barely known that the Queen _could_ laugh. “Did he now? From my husband, that’s a greater compliment than you might understand.”

Heiro blinked, words deserting her, unable to find an appropriate answer to that.

“Be careful,” Attolia advised her drily, “else you may find that one day you own either more earrings than you know what to do with, or else no earrings at all.”

“…Your Majesty?” Heiro might have occasionally have considered herself bright, or at least bright enough to make her family believe her very stupid, but in this conversation she could already feel herself drowning. She was certain that there were hidden messages here, but try as she might she couldn’t venture to guess what they were.

Still, the Queen’s look now, though searching, did not seem unkind. “I noted that your sister seemed very keen to dance with him. Perhaps she too needs better earrings.”

Themis! After a whole second of feeling that she might be allowed to relax a little, Heiro’s mouth was dry again. Themis might occasionally be annoying, might be a little too easily led into their father’s schemes but she was still her sister. Besides, some days you just did what you had to in order to avoid a beating. Perhaps Heiro had felt like being brave, but she could hardly blame Themis for not being brave with her, not when her sister had so much more to lose.

“My sister – Lady Themis – she has always been interested in Eddis, Your Majesty,” she faltered, but it sounded like a lie even to her own ears. Inwardly she cursed herself for a fool; had she honestly thought herself capable of political machinations that wouldn’t attract the attention of the Queen? What had she expected, getting herself into this at all?

“Indeed.” Attolia’s tone said that she didn’t believe a word of it. “Perhaps we can arrange a posting for her in the court of Eddis.” She paused, and seemed to consider that, gazing thoughtfully off into space for a moment. “Indeed, I think that might be the best for all involved.”

Relatively unscathed and unshamed by public punishment, and away from where she could be pulled into more of their father’s schemes. Themis would indeed be getting away lightly, more lightly than anyone might have expected considering how thoroughly the Queen usually dealt with threats. Heiro studied her feet and wondered if this was perhaps the King’s influence already.

“Which leaves you to deal with,” Attolia added calmly. “Would you like to consider a sojourn to Eddis yourself?”

Viewed positively, it would put Heiro a long way from the clutches of her father and anything he might be planning for her. On the other hand... it would put Heiro a long way from her father, and anything else he might be planning for the King. It took a long moment for her to gather enough courage to shake her head, but there were too many overheard conversations repeating in her memory for her to do anything else. “If you please, Your Majesty, I would prefer to stay.”

“Hm.” There was a pause as though Attolia was considering that. Again, the Queen looked her over, but Heiro did not get the impression that her answer had been entirely displeasing. “A brave answer for someone who, until now, has been very good at avoiding most of the attention of the Court,” she commented. “Of course, the problem with quiet little mice is that they are rarely noticed until they put poison in the wrong cup. Or the right cup, as the case might be.”

This time, Heiro did not even dare squeak out a ‘Your Majesty’. She kept her eyes on her feet, holding herself very still.

It meant that she felt, rather than saw, the Queen’s footsteps approaching her, pausing in front of her. “You must understand,” Attolia said, her voice seeming no less dangerous for all that it was soft, “that I would prefer not to have poison in my husband’s cup that I did not place there myself. Or, for that matter, poison in my own cup.”

Had this somehow gone from a case of jealousy to suspected treason? With effort, Heiro stopped herself from closing her eyes though she could feel herself starting to tremble. She might have dropped to her knees had her body not seemed frozen to the spot.

She flinched at the hand on her shoulder, but much to her surprise it was not an ungentle touch. “Of course,” the Queen went on, quietly, “my husband would have me believe that perhaps the better way to deal with such matters is to deal with the person you might actually prefer to poison, rather than leave you to be driven into a corner until perhaps you don’t see a better way out.”

“I would never—” Never poison anyone, never kill anyone, but by letting the King know too much hadn’t she already exposed her father to a death sentence? She might have told herself that she might keep him clear of Themis without Attolis ever noticing what she did for his sake, but part of her couldn’t deny that she had hoped that somehow she would. “I’m not a murderer, Your Majesty!”

“No. You’re not.” Still the Queen’s voice was gentle, more gentle than she had ever heard it before. “But sometimes when someone is trapped with no sign of rescue on the horizon the only thing for them to do is learn how to rescue themselves.” She paused. “ _Whatever_ that might take.”

There were stories about what Attolia had done to her first husband. Heiro had been too young to know what was truth and what was wild exaggeration, and it was difficult to match the quiet shadow of a girl in the stories to the formidable ruler she had grown up knowing. Still, there was something in Attolia’s tone that was enough to make a girl wonder.

“I am not, however, prone to rescuing people who do not want to be rescued,” the Queen added. “Some might say that the kindest thing I could do for you right now is to arrange for you to be sent away from Court to a convenient marriage but—” Again there was that dry note to her voice “—experience tells me that is not always the kindness it might seem. On the other hand, within Court, there are always uses for someone capable of using their eyes and ears without being noticed, and not babbling all they hear.”

“I—” Had she misunderstood the implication of the Queen’s words? Heiro was unsure, and afraid of answering in case she had.

“I’m offering you a job, Lady Heiro,” Attolia said. “One that very few people might ever know that you have, but that would nevertheless somehow conspire to keep you safe from your father, if only by convenient interruptions when you might otherwise be at risk.”

A job or a trap? Afraid as she was, Heiro had to know. “And—and if I say no, Your Majesty?” she murmured, conscious that even the question might be taken as ungrateful refusal.

Attolia paused, and this time Heiro saw her swift glance up, as though checking something at the other side of the room. “That was a brave question to ask,” she noted, not quite concealing her impatience. “If you refuse, you go home, we have not had this conversation, and you go on with your life. Nobody interferes with your relationship with your father, although he would be well-advised to find better friends if he does not wish to find a way to continue living without a head.”

There were warnings and that—that went quite some way beyond a warning. Heiro licked dry lips and steeled herself to ask her next question. “Would I have to spy on the King?”

Attolia’s hesitation seemed to indicate that she was unsure how to answer that. Laughter, quite unexpected, from the other side of the room cut her off before she could and Heiro looked up, anxious but not altogether surprised as Attolis strode fully into the light.

“You have to keep her now,” he informed the Queen cheerfully. “She’s passed all your tests despite you managing to be your terrifying self.”

Attolia looked pained. “Do you have to describe it that way?”

“I’m afraid it’s entirely accurate.” The King sounded anything but sorry. “The poor girl was trying to save me, and you had her all but convinced she was about to be executed for it. You’re the only person I know who can make a job offer sound like an invitation to be tortured.”

“...Your Majesties?” Heiro’s face was flushed; not quite sure where this was going but quite certain that this was not a discussion she should be overhearing.

“See now, you’re making me be indiscreet,” Attolis reproved the Queen cheerfully, as though certain all of the fault was on her side. Attolia scowled. “How do you feel about it, Lady Heiro? You have the eyes and ears to notice when something is wrong, and the brains to be able to interfere discreetly, and frankly I could use the help of people like that.”

Heiro hesitated, mouth half-open, unsure how to answer. After the Queen’s intimidating approach, the King’s merry informality left her lost a little for what to say.

“And,” Attolis added more seriously, “you tried to be a friend to me at a point where you didn’t think I would notice and when you thought I had none. And people like that are not so common that I could afford to throw one away.” He darted a glance at the Queen, and looked rueful a moment. “Though I would, had you decided you preferred Eddis.”

Attolia shrugged, unashamed. “She would hardly be the first person to rescue someone who could rescue her in return.”

“No,” the King agreed, and just for a moment there was a softness in his eyes as he looked at the Queen. “Though I must admit a fondness for those who find a way to rescue themselves, even if they might take an unexpected path to do it.”

Heiro did her best to politely fail to notice the pleased flush that rose in the Queen’s cheeks, deciding that it was safer to assume that no part of the compliment had been directed at her. If it had been... well, she was not sure how to take it if it had been.

“She’ll have to be one of your attendants,” the King went on smoothly, as though neither woman had reacted at all. “People would talk too much if she was one of mine.” He shrugged slightly, countering an argument before it could be spoken aloud. “Of course, people already talk, but there’s talking and talking. I’m not ready yet to fight a duel for your honour because someone is horrified at me so openly taking a mistress.”

“If they thought I had openly tolerated you taking a mistress,” the Queen said crisply, “it wouldn’t be you that they would be talking about. I hardly need you to fight duels in my honour.”

“There’s that too, of course,” Attolis agreed, apparently entirely unabashed by the inherent threat in those words. Heiro wondered silently if he were perhaps the only person in the kingdom to be entirely unafraid of the Queen. And if he were.. would that be bravery or foolishness?

“You make a lot of plans for someone who has yet to agree to work for you,” the Queen said bluntly, and they both turned to look at Heiro as though just remembering her presence.

Heiro fought a battle to keep her voice steady. “Would I have to spy on my father?”

“Well, that was the obvious first question after asking whether you needed to spy on me.” The King sounded amused rather than offended by her answer. “Do you think we need you to spy on your father?”

Heiro thought about it, about the way she had thought herself utterly subtle until the King had somehow seen through... everything. No, a man who could do that likely already knew everything he needed to know about her father. She shook her head.

“Out of respect to you, and because your father seems to be suffering more from a case of making truly terrible friends who scare him into stupid actions, he’s about to receive a terrible scare – and nothing further unless he’s silly enough to persist,” Attolis said soberly, and Heiro caught a quick warning glance to the Queen as though to dissuade her from argument. “What you decide is to do with you, and you alone.”

“But why—” Heiro started, and faltered, remembering her place. It was hardly her job to question the King and Queen of Attolis, even if they had seemed to play a very strange trick in the way they approached her.

But the King answered her unspoken question anyway. “If it had been me that had approached you, you would have thought it was without the permission of the Queen.” He paused, his eyes merry. “Or that I had intended on sleeping with you,” he added, and Heiro didn’t dare to even glance at the Queen to see her reaction to that suggestion. “And if it had been my wife alone you might have agreed out of terror, no matter what you thought she would you to do. I don’t want people working for us solely out of fear, Lady Heiro. There’s always someone else who frightens them worse.”

That much Heiro could understand, and she dared to nod agreement.

“But you were terrified, and didn’t agree outright anyway,” the King went on calmly. “And that – that was brave.” He patted her on the shoulder, his face and voice warm. “What about it, then? Will you help us? I won’t pretend that it’ll be the last time you’ll have to be brave, but I could use someone at my side the days I need a friend.” He glanced again at the Queen, and amended that. “The days we _both_ need a friend.”

Shyly, Heiro finally dared look up at the Queen and was surprised that Attolia was not looking half so fierce as she was expecting. In fact, the expression on her face might have been described as friendly. Maybe. If it were on someone else’s face.

“I—” She hesitated, then dipped a curtsy. Somehow it seemed appropriate. “I’ll do my best, Your Majesty – your Majesties.”

“I’m sure you will,” the King said. “And we’ll manage to get over the days when we want more than that.” He considered her a moment, and then nodded. “And for now, I think you should run along, lest your father wonder where you are again. It will be easier to talk when you are an attendant.”

 

*

 

“She really does have pretty earrings,” Attolis commented, as the door closed safely behind Heiro. “And pretty ears for them to go on, too.”

Attolia gave a snort that was almost a laugh. “And when exactly were you planning on telling her it wasn’t friendship we were wanting?”

“When you weren’t standing there, terrifying her into thinking she might be tortured if she said yes or executed if she said no.” This time it was Attolis’ turn to sound dry. “Really, my dear, one day you will learn that scaring someone into nearly soiling themselves does not count as flirting.” He paused, as though only just hearing what he had said out loud. “Well. Not with anyone but me at least,” he amended.

“I was being reassuring!” Attolia protested.

“Reassuring like a crocodile,” Attolis said lightly, and there was laughter in his voice. “Give her some time to recover from life with her father, time to learn that saying ‘no’ doesn’t mean a beating. I would expect time with Phresine, at least, to teach her that. It wouldn’t be fair to ask before then.”

Attolia nodded, though a slight frown crossed her face. “I would have preferred to deal with her father properly.”

Attolis shrugged. “If he is sensible enough to learn, he will be no threat to anyone. If he’s not, we can deal with him soon enough. Either way does not leave her with the thought in her head that she is the one at fault for his punishment – and we have time enough until I’m ready to deal with everyone involved in this plotting in any case.”

“And until then?”

“Until then...” He looked at her, smiling, raising a light hand to brush her cheek. “Until then... I know someone else with very pretty earrings.” Mostly, it had to be said, because he had been the one to give them to her – and many more since.


End file.
